


Seasons of Love

by Lenni51074



Series: A Wrinkle In Time [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes makes me soft, F/M, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bffs in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:53:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23570371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenni51074/pseuds/Lenni51074
Summary: You are still heartbroken over Steve’s decision to go back in time to live his life with Peggy, after returning the Infinity Stones to their proper timelines following the defeat of Thanos. Bucky reminds you that you still have people who love you here and now.A sequel to “A Wrinkle in Time”, following your unfolding love story with Bucky during the course of the year after Steve returns to the present timeline as an old man.For Ravenswood78 who ‘suggested’ that I write a sequel about how Bucky mends your broken heart :)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Steve Rogers & Reader
Series: A Wrinkle In Time [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694020
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	1. Falling Slowly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has returned the Infinity Stones to their proper place in time, but his return to the present breaks your heart. When he explains his true reason for returning to Peggy, it makes you consider your friendship with Bucky in a new light.

It was late November. Nearly Thanksgiving.

 _Huh. What the hell do we have to be thankful for?_ you thought resentfully as you looked out over the lake at the Avengers Facility.

The Avengers – at least as the world had known them – were no more.

Tony and Natasha were dead, sacrificing themselves in order to defeat Thanos and restore the universe to the way it had been prior to the Decimation. Intellectually, you fully understood their reasons for doing what they had done, and you were honest enough to admit that if you had been in their position you probably would have made exactly the same decision. But emotionally, their deaths left a void in your heart that you weren’t sure would ever be filled.

Thor had left Earth yet again, making the decision to travel with the Guardians on their next space adventure, much to Quill’s dismay. The God of Thunder was still suffering the death of his brother and a large proportion of the Asgardian people at the hands of the mad Titan, as well as his own perceived failure when the team had confronted him five years earlier in Wakanda. His PTSD was one of the worst cases you had ever seen, and yet you knew without a shadow of a doubt that Rocket would be the one that could snap him out of it, if anyone was going to. For some reason, that incorrigible scoundrel of a trash panda was the one Thor had built the strongest rapport with.

Clint and Scott had returned to their respective families, eager to make up for the time lost with them over the past five years; young Peter Parker was struggling to come to terms with the death of his mentor, Tony; Wanda was still unable to deal with the loss of her beloved Vision; the others were trying to come to terms with the new world order, and their place within it.

And Steve Rogers – the man you had loved, the man you had thought loved you back – had returned to the past to live out the rest of his days with Peggy Carter, the woman who had always held his heart, despite how much he professed to love you.

No, there was not much to be thankful for at all this year.

You heard footsteps behind you, and a pair of arms encircled you in a warm hug.

 _It’s funny how something that had caused so much pain and death could be so comforting,_ you thought, as you ran your fingers over the vibranium arm holding you close to a broad chest.

“He’s here, doll-face,” Bucky said softly, his breath tickling your ear.

“All right. I’ll be inside in a moment.” You squeezed Bucky’s flesh hand, and he relinquished his hold on you as he turned to go back inside.

Taking one last look out over the lake, you sighed again, then headed inside.

**************************************

Smiling, Steve stood as you entered the library, holding his arms out for a hug. He was still strong, despite the fact that he was now well and truly over one hundred years old, and his blue eyes – now faded but still full of mischief – crinkled as he smiled. “Hey, there, doll.”

“Hi, Steve. Good to see you,” you said, returning his embrace warmly. “I hope you’re not causing too much trouble at the nursing home.”

“Ah, those nurses, they don’t know how to have fun,” he pouted. “It’s not my fault they can’t keep up with me.”

“If you keep wreaking havoc, they’re going to demand that we bring you back here,” you teased. “And I, for one, don’t have the time or the energy to be always chasing around after you.”

“You young folks these days are too soft,” he scoffed, sitting down again in the armchair that was reserved for his visits. It had very quickly become ‘Steve’s chair’ and nobody else dared to sit in it during his absences from the Compound. All of you knew that he wouldn’t have minded, and yet it seemed disrespectful to even consider it.

You settled into the couch opposite him and smiled. “So, what brings you here today? I thought you weren’t going to come until Thanksgiving. Did they let you out early for good behaviour?”

He just smiled gently at you. “I thought I’d spend a few extra days with everyone before Thanksgiving. It’s boring at the home; everyone there is either old or trying to get me to sit still. It’s much more fun being with all of you.”

You laughed. “Well, you know that we always look forward to seeing you, Steve. It’s not the same around here without you bossing all of us around.”

Steve looked at you, his expression turning serious. “Also, I wanted to talk with you, Y/N. To explain to you properly about why I stayed with Peg when I took the Infinity Stones back.”

Oh. Your heart clenched. You weren’t sure you wanted to hear again how much he’d loved Peggy, how the lure of the life he’d always wanted had been too great a temptation to resist. He’d explained it all the day he’d taken them back, when he’d returned as the old man before you now.

“Steve, you don’t have to explain anything,” you started, but he held up a hand.

“Y/N, you deserve the truth. All of it. I know I told you my reasons for staying in the past that day, but I only told you part of it. It’s time I told you the other half.” He paused for a moment, before speaking again. “I gave it all up for him, you know.”

You tilted your head to the side. “What are you talking about, Steve?”

“My life here with you. I gave it up for Bucky.”

A frown creased your forehead. “What do you mean? I thought you went back to Peggy because she was the love of your life.”

“That’s partly true. I hadn’t even considered the possibility of staying in the past with her until I was speaking to Buck about it, before I took the stones back. Then I realised that I had two possible futures, but he really only had one.”

“Steve, I’m sorry. I’m confused.”

His blue eyes held your gaze. “I had a choice. I could come back and live the rest of my life with you, and be happy, but in the process it would break Bucky’s heart. Or I could go back to Peg, and give him a chance.”

“A chance at what?”

“Sweetie, don’t you see? I loved Peggy, and I loved you just as much. I could just as easily have chosen a future with you. Bucky didn’t have that choice. He only has you.”

You suddenly felt as if a lightbulb had gone off. _Of course_ Steve’s decision had to do with Bucky. The one person in the world who meant more to him than you and Peggy Carter combined.

“You stayed in the past for Bucky?” you asked slowly.

A nod and a smile. “Sure did. He loves you with everything he has in him. He never told you because he didn’t want it to affect your friendship.”

It all made sense now. How Bucky had told you that he’d be there for you in the days following Steve’s return from the past. How he seemed instinctively to know when you needed him. The way he had always provided a shoulder to cry on. How he held you through the night, almost protectively, as if by doing so he could prevent the world from ever hurting you again.

The two of you had taken to sharing a bed after the Infinity Stones had been returned. It was partly from shared grief at the loss of Tony and Natasha; partly to stave off each other’s nightmares of the Decimation; and in part because you struggled to get to sleep without Steve next to you. You’d become used to having Steve’s comforting weight beside you as you slept, and while it wasn’t exactly the same, Bucky’s form became a welcome substitute in the days and weeks to follow.

Bucky would hold you all night, his flesh hand stroking your back gently, whispering softly to you in the dark, until you fell into dreamless slumber. He never crossed the unspoken boundary between friendship and something more; he seemed to understand without being told that his companionship was what you needed more than anything.

The two of you had always been close, from the moment you met him in the lead-up to the team’s so-called ‘Civil War’. You’d struck up an immediate friendship, bonding together over mock frustration at the sheer idiocy of the man you would both follow to the end of the line; a penchant for teasing Sam Wilson mercilessly; a love of movie musicals; and an unadulterated enjoyment of all things involving chocolate. You were instantly fond of one another, and you found yourself fiercely protective of the former Winter Soldier.

But now you wondered if there was something more to Bucky’s fondness for you. He always called you ‘doll-face’, a subtle point of difference to the old-fashioned term of endearment that Steve had bestowed upon you. He always whispered in Russian, which you didn’t speak. What was he saying to you every night? Was he just talking about anything and everything, in order to get you to sleep? Or was he saying something more?

Steve broke you from your reverie. “Hey, Y/N. You still with me?”

You shook you head. “Sorry, Steve. I wasn’t paying attention. What did you say?”

He gave you a look. “I was just asking if you wanted to go for a walk. Won’t be much longer before the weather will be too bad for us to enjoy the great outdoors.”

“A walk sounds great.” It might clear your head. If not, at least it would give you a chance to think over your relationship with Bucky, and whether you were ready to consider something more with somebody who wasn’t the man you’d always thought you would spend the rest of your life with.

**************************************

After Steve had shuffled off to the room that had been set aside for him – he deemed his old apartment at the Compound ‘too big’ and had insisted on a smaller room – you and Bucky sat in the lounge room of your own apartment. The two of you were snuggled up on the couch, tumblers of whiskey in your hands, as a crackling fire burned in the fireplace.

You took a sip of your drink before resting your head on Bucky’s shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Did you have a good chat with Steve today, doll-face?”

“I did.” You paused, then spoke again softly. “He told me his real reason for staying with Peggy.”

You felt Bucky hold his breath briefly, before he slowly exhaled. “So now you know.”

“Yeah.” You lifted your head to look into those incredible blue-grey eyes of the man who had become your rock over the past few weeks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Scared, I guess. That you’d think I was being selfish. Or that you would hate me.”

“I could never hate you, Bucky,” you admonished.

“Y/N, I know how much you love Steve. I guess I just didn’t want to risk losing your friendship over something that could never be.” He shrugged again. “I’ve made my peace with us just bein’ friends, doll-face.”

“You are more than just my friend, Bucky, and you know it.” You hesitated, before pressing your lips briefly to his. Pulling away, you noticed his eyes widened in surprise. “Sorry, I’m not trying to give you false hope or anything. I’m just letting you know that, in my own way, I _do_ love you. It’s just not…”

Bucky hushed you with a finger against your lips. “It’s okay, doll-face. I’ll be here for you whenever you need me, as a friend or… maybe one day as something more. No matter what. _YA vsegda budu zdes' dlya tebya_.”

“What does that mean?”

He frowned. “What does what mean?”

“You just said something to me in Russian,” you told him. “You do that a lot, you know.”

“I do? I didn’t realise.” He looked at you, his gaze softening. “I said that I will always be here for you. And I mean it.”

“I know.” You snuggled up close to him once more. “And I’ll always be here for you, Bucky. Always.”

The two of you finished your drinks, then reached an unspoken agreement to head to bed. You’d spent enough time together on missions that you didn’t bother trying to hide your body from Bucky when you changed into your sleepwear, which consisted of one of Steve’s old t-shirts and a pair of boyleg shorts. Despite the cold weather, you were always toasty warm because the super soldier who shared your bed ran hot thanks to the serum running through his veins. Steve had been the same.

Bucky was already in bed when you finished brushing your teeth. He was bare-chested, as usual, dressed only in a pair of sweatpants. He’d stopped feeling self-conscious of the scars marring his torso after you told him that there was no reason to be ashamed of them; they were part of who he was, and he was a wonderful person whom you adored.

“Besides,” you’d grinned. “Chicks dig scars.”

He’d slept without a shirt ever since.

You cuddled close to him, your ear pressed to his chest so you could listen to his steady heartbeat and relaxed breathing. As was part of the evening ritual, he rubbed his flesh hand up and down your spine, tracing circles over your skin as he spoke softly in Russian. His voice soothed you, and you found your eyelids growing heavy. You didn’t understand a word of what he was saying, yet it provided you with a sense of peace.

“ _YA lyublyu tebya_ , Y/N.”

You didn’t need a translator to know what he’d just whispered to the dark. His tone said it all.

_I love you._

He’d never said it out loud before, but you knew with absolute certainty that this would not be the last time Bucky told you that.

For some reason, that thought brought a smile to your face as you finally drifted off to sleep.


	2. Winter Solace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your first Christmas without Nat and Tony is painful, but Bucky reminds you that you still have plenty of reasons to smile.

Bucky stared in befuddlement at the mess of flour, eggs and spices covering the kitchen bench. “What’s going on here? Was there an explosion at the gingerbread factory?”

You huffed in exasperation. “If you must know, I’ve just been informed that Pepper and Morgan will be joining us for Christmas after all, and Morgan is demanding a gingerbread house. So now I need to make more gingerbread so that we actually have something for her to decorate when she gets here on Christmas Eve.”

The communal kitchen in the living quarters of the Avengers Facility had smelt like Christmas for the past week and a half. You had been in a frenzy, baking cakes and cookies for friends and family. Care packages were being sent to Scott and Clint, as they were spending their first Christmas post-Snap reversal with their families, but didn’t want to miss out on your Christmas cake and spice cookies.

Peter Parker had said that he and Aunt May would come to the Compound a few days before Christmas, and he had requested that you make his favourite candy cane cookies. You had been unable to resist his puppy dog eyes, having a well-known soft spot for the adorable teenager, and he had ruthlessly exploited that fact to his full advantage.

Sam had been ‘taste testing’ everything, offering to help with the washing up - you didn’t call him out about the fact that he did it simply so he could lick the bowl first - and thereby earning the opportunity to provide ‘quality control’. No way were you going to let anything but the best leave the kitchen, and Sam was more than willing to oblige by making sure that everything tasted perfect.

Fury, Coulson and Hill would all be joining you at the Compound, and you knew that the Director was a fiend when it came to butterscotch. So you’d dug up your Grandma’s recipe and had made a double batch, hoping that the rest of you might be able to sneak a piece before he devoured the lot.

Steve would also be arriving the day before Christmas Eve, having promised that he would be there to attend Midnight Mass with you. The two of you had gone every year that you were together, and you didn’t see any reason to skip it this year. Steve had also requested a batch of shortbread to take back to the staff at his nursing home, and so you had promised to make it the day he arrived, as long as he promised not to eat it all before he returned to the home the day after Christmas.

So you had been spending most of your time in the kitchen, and with less than a week until the big day you were a bundle of frazzled nerves. You had flour in your hair, and smudges of cocoa and powdered sugar on your face, which Bucky had to fight the urge to wipe off with his tongue. He thought you had never looked more adorable than you did right at this moment, with a chopstick holding your messy bun in place and your apron covered in cake batter. You looked like an out-of-control Betty Crocker.

You stood with hands on hips as you looked around in a panic. “Where the fuck is my whisk?”

Without saying a word, Bucky grabbed one of your hands and held it in front of your face. There, clenched in your fist, was said whisk.

“Oh. Thanks.”

Gently, he removed the whisk and put it on the kitchen bench. He grabbed your hands in his and stared into your eyes. “Breathe, doll-face. You’re starting to hyperventilate and I really don’t want to have to resuscitate you in the kitchen.”

Lies. He would give you mouth-to-mouth in a heartbeat. You wouldn’t even have to be unconscious.

Using the calming technique that you had shown him so long ago, he helped you to slow down your breathing, clearing your mind until you were once again able to focus.

“Thanks, Bucky. I feel better now,” you said with a smile.

“Good. Now, what can I do to help?”

You were about to protest, when you noticed the determined look on his face and decided that perhaps a bit of help wouldn’t go astray. “Are you any good at making apple pie?”

“Doll-face, you are talkin’ my language.”

The two of you worked in companionable silence, the only sounds being the cracking of eggs and the clatter of utensils.

**************************************

You stared at Bucky. “Please tell me you are joking right now.”

Your friend looked downcast. “I’m really sorry, doll-face. Fury needs us to go in there now.”

Bucky had approached you apprehensively – since when was the former Winter Soldier apprehensive, for fuck’s sake? – to tell you that both he and Sam were needed on a mission, and that they were likely to be gone for several days.

“But Christmas is in three days, Bucky! _Three days!_ The Director seriously wants to send the two of you on a mission right before Christmas?”

“It’s not like HYDRA is takin’ time off for the holiday season, Y/N,” Bucky shrugged apologetically. “This is the best opportunity we’ve had in months. We might not get another chance like this for ages.”

You sighed, then headed back to the kitchen. “Fine. But I’m at least going to make sure the two of you don’t starve to death. No way are you going to eat those rubbish ration packs they always give us.”

Bucky knew better than to argue, so he sat and waited while you put together a package consisting of glazed ham, turkey, cheese, bread rolls, Christmas cake and spice cookies. There was enough to feed the entire team for over a week. Birdbrain would likely die of ecstasy when he saw all the food.

You placed the package of food into a sturdy container, ensuring that it wouldn’t be squashed, then handed it to Bucky. “There. At least I know that you two will be well fed while you’re out there.”

“Thanks, Y/N. You’re a real peach. We’ll do our best to be back in time for Christmas.” Bucky kissed your cheek before heading towards the hangar where Sam was waiting in the Quinjet.

You grabbed a piece of paper from your pocket, angrily crossing a line through a name. “Fury is off my Christmas card list this year.”

**************************************

Christmas was subdued that year. Although you loved having your Avengers family with you, it just served as yet another reminder of those that were absent. While some of those missing were only temporary, others were forever, and your heart ached. You hadn’t realized how much life Tony and Natasha had breathed into the place until they were no longer there.

The Christmas dinner had been delicious, if less raucous than in previous years. Nobody felt like pulling the Christmas bonbons, there were no terrible jokes, and no fighting over the last piece of pudding. Everyone was just thankful that they were able to share another Christmas with the ones they loved, and Steve said a solemn prayer for those that were not present. There wasn’t a dry eye at the table when he’d finished, even among the avowed atheists.

May Parker and Pepper had insisted on clearing the kitchen, shooing you out when you began to help. May stood with her hands on her hips as she scolded you. “You have done more than enough, Y/N. You have run yourself ragged spoiling all of us with this feast. Now go and put your feet up before I spank you with this wooden spoon.”

You knew better than to argue, so you scooted to the common area of the Compound before she could follow through with her threat.

You now sat sleepily on the lounge, running your fingers through Peter’s dark curls as he lay with his head in your lap, snoring softly. The teen had found it particularly difficult being there without Tony, especially when Pepper presented him with his Christmas gift – an Audi R8 Spyder, which Tony had bought in obvious reference to Peter’s superhero alter ego. You had held him as he cried, and he had fallen asleep curled up against you.

The Compound was dark and quiet, as the others had long sought their rooms. May came to check on you when she had finished bustling in the kitchen. You refused to let her wake Peter. “He’s fine, May. Leave him where he is. I’ll keep him company tonight."

“All right.” She pulled a fluffy blanket over him, and pressed a soft kiss to his temple. “G’night, Petey. Night, Y/N.”

“Good night, May. Sleep well.” It wasn’t long before you joined Peter in slumber, falling asleep with your head resting on your arm.

**************************************

You weren’t sure what had woken you. The fire had burned down to mere embers, and the lights in the common area were all dimmed. Peter still slumbered, his curls barely peeking over the top of the blanket.

There it was again. A mere whisper of sound. It might have been nothing… but then, again, it might have been something. You were a trained sniper, after all, and it was your job to notice when possible threats were near.

Trying not to wake Peter, you reached under the cushion for your pistol. You wrapped your fingers around the grip, one finger resting near the trigger. There was a flicker of movement out of the corner of your eye, and you didn’t hesitate. You brought the pistol up, and the muzzle came to rest just above a familiar pair of blue-grey eyes.

“Not exactly the greeting I was hopin’ for, doll-face.”

“Bucky!” you whisper-yelled. “You scared the crap out of me!”

“Sorry, doll-face. Didn’t mean to wake you. Me and Birdbrain just got back.” He grabbed your wrist and gently removed the pistol from your grip. “Sam went straight to his rooms, but I saw the light from the fireplace and thought I’d check that everything was okay here before I went to ours.”

You threw your arms around his neck. “I’m so glad you’re home, Bucky.”  
  
“Told ya we’d be back for Christmas,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. “Sorry we missed most of it. We got back as fast as we could, but we’re still a few hours late.”

“You’re home safe, both of you. That’s all that matters.” You started to untangle yourself from the blankets, but Bucky stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Stay here, doll-face. The kid looks comfortable, let him sleep.”

“Are you sure, Bucky?”

He nodded. “I’ve just spent the last three days bunking with Sam, and his snores are louder than any thunderstorm Thor ever conjured up. I wouldn’t mind the chance to have a bed all to myself for one night. Besides, I stink, and I’m too tired to even have a shower right now. I’m probably just gonna collapse in bed without even undressing first.”

You took a tentative sniff, before wrinkling your nose in disgust. “Ugh, you’re right. You smell awful.”

He grinned as he stood up. Pressing a kiss to your temple, he whispered, “G’night, doll-face. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“G’night, Bucky,” you whispered, snuggling back under the blankets. Peter sighed sleepily as you once again ran your fingers through his curls.

You were asleep before Bucky had even made it to the corridor.

**************************************

New Year’s Eve was quiet. Most of the guests who had spent Christmas at the Compound had now returned home, leaving only the bare minimum on standby. Rhodey, Sam, Bruce and Wanda hadn’t felt like celebrating – really, you couldn’t blame them – and so you and Bucky were spending the evening alone in your apartment.

The two of you had dressed up because Bucky wanted to ‘take you dancing’, even if it was just in your rooms. He wore a dark navy suit, beautifully tailored to show off his broad shoulders and trim waist.

When you came out to the living room in your [wine-coloured, ‘40s inspired dress](https://www.retropetite.com/media/catalog/product/cache/3/image/1800x/040ec09b1e35df139433887a97daa66f/p/e/petite-split-skirt-evening-dress-min.jpg), he whistled appreciatively.

His Brooklyn accent came out strong as he spoke. “If you’d been around in my day, doll-face, I woulda been the happiest guy in New York, havin’ such a gorgeous dame on my arm.”

“Pffft. You would have had a conga line of women at your beck and call, Bucky,” you scoffed. “I refuse to believe that you would have settled for little ol’ me.”

“None of ‘em could ever have held a candle to you, Y/N,” he told you honestly. “I’d have been beatin’ the other guys off of you with a stick. Especially Steve. The punk would have tried to steal you right out from under me.”

He held out his arm chivalrously with an exaggerated bow. Wiggling his eyebrows, he asked, “May I have this dance, Ma’am?”

You giggled as you let him lead you to the ‘dance floor’, which was the living room rug. Bucky never took his eyes off you as he spoke. “FRIDAY, can you please dim the lights and put on some mood music?”  
  
“Of course, Sergeant Barnes,” replied the AI pleasantly, as something by Glen Miller began to play. FRIDAY was always exceedingly courteous to Bucky. You suspected that the AI had a bit of a crush on him.

The two of you laughed and danced for hours, as big band classics played over the speakers, Bucky said it almost felt like he was back in the dance-halls he used to frequent before he went to the war, and you were delighted to see him so carefree. He looked so much younger, his smile lighting up his entire being. You found it very difficult not to swoon.

As it neared midnight, the soft strains of ’Warm in December’ by Julie London wafted through your apartment as he held you in his arms. He smiled as you rested your head on his shoulder while the two of you swayed together. His fingertips danced up and down your spine, and you caressed the nape of his neck with one hand.

_I'll keep you warm in December  
Warm when the cold breezes blow  
My arms so lovin'  
A kind of oven  
To melt the sleet and snow_

_This heart that glows like an ember  
Longs to be loved just by you  
If it could be so  
Then you'd keep me so  
Warm in December too_

_If it could be so  
Then you'd keep me so  
Warm in December  
Oooh -- it's cool in December  
Please keep me warm in December too_

As the song came to an end, the clock struck twelve. Those incredible eyes held yours. “Happy New Year, doll-face.”

“Happy New Year, Bucky.”

Bucky brushed his lips against yours, ever so gently. He was pleasantly surprised when you deepened the kiss, your tongue tentatively pressed to the seam of his lips. He parted his lips, and your tongue swirled gently in his mouth. Bucky pressed you closer to him, and you carded your fingers in his hair as the two of you continued kissing. Although the kiss had been deepened, it remained soft and sweet, as you both cautiously explored this new aspect of your relationship.

Eventually you needed to catch your breath. Bucky rested his forehead against yours as you both panted, trying to calm your racing hearts. “Not sure if you’re quite ready to take the next step, doll-face,” he whispered.

“Not yet, Bucky,” you admitted regretfully. “I do love you, but… I’m just not ready for that level of… intimacy with you. Not yet. I’m sorry.”

He pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Don’t apologise. There’s no rush, doll-face. I’ve waited more than seventy years to find someone to share my life with. I can wait a little longer.”

“You are a remarkably patient man, Bucky.”

A shake of his head. “No, Y/N. I just don’t want to ruin what we’ve got. I will wait for you forever if I have to. I love you, and I respect you, and I will never push you into doin’ somethin’ that you might end up regretting if you’re not one hundred percent sure you want it. If you decide that all you want from me is friendship, then I can accept that.”

You kissed him again, a brief press of your lips against his. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Course you do,” he grinned. “Besides, I get to wake up next to you every morning, and I haven’t been scared off by your bed hair or morning breath yet. In fact, I think that you look adorable first thing in the morning, all grumpy and rumpled and ready to shoot anyone who talks to you before you’ve had coffee first.”

You grinned back as you grabbed his hand, leading him into the bedroom. “Well, if that isn’t true love, then I don’t know what is.”

As the two of you lay in bed, Bucky whispered in the dark, as always. “ _YA lyublyu tebya_ , Y/N.”

This time, you whispered back. “ _YA lyublyu tebya_ , Bucky.”

You could almost feel Bucky’s grin as he fell asleep.


End file.
